Six Years
by RCMartin
Summary: It is six years after the war, and five years since her daughter was born. She is back in London with a new job at the Ministry...but can she avoid the father of her child forever? Or will sparks fly once again between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy? And what happens when famous Death Eaters rise again, and target a certain muggleborn?
1. Authors Note

Hello everyone.

My profuse apologies for not having updated in a _very_ long time. It has been a crazy, crazy, _crazy_ year for me. So much has been going on and changing in my life that I just havent had the time or the energy to keep writing this.

Something you all will quickly notice, is that I am revising this story. It is the same concept, but I just didnt like the way I was writing it, so I have kind of started from scratch. My apologies to those who loved my original works of **Six Years** , but hopefully you will like this version a hell of a lot more.

Please note that I do not own any of the original characters, I only own my personal OC- Natasha Emily Granger.

Much Love.


	2. Chapter One

_May 2nd, 2004_

Cameras flashed and voices echoed around her as she emerged from the fireplace, stepping onto the polished black tile of the Ministry of Magic. She steadied herself, blinking away the stars in her vision caused by the many bright flashes of the cameras and pasted on a fake smile for only a second before stepping away from the gaggle of reporters and over the security line, into the party that was hosted far down the corridor. She could hear the cries behind her, of the blood-sucking hags that would only twist any words she gave them around into a dramatic article that, quite honestly, no one would believe anyway. They asked where she had been, why she appeared now, if she was married, if she truly accepted the job that rumors claimed she had. She ignored them, letting the clicking of her stilettos echoing off the marble walls around her drown out their pleas until they finally found another victim to harass.

She walked quickly and confidently, her chin held high, holding a black satin clutch in her hands as she moved down the halls towards what could only be described as the lobby of the Ministry. She paused as the halls opened up, taking in the scenery before her: the elegant gold statue of three familiar seventeen-year-old children standing upon the elaborate marble and stone fountain in the center of the lobby, the windows and banners and glass, the massive amount of people in attendance all dressed in elegant robes and glamorous gowns. Her eyes immediately found a number of familiar faces within the crowd that she would have to speak to later in the night before she continued on, searching for a few specific people.

She found them, standing closer to the fountain: a tall, bean-pole of a man with startling red hair and a multitude of freckles, an arm wrapped lazily around an average looking woman with dusty blonde hair, a slightly shorter man with unruly black hair, wire framed glasses and a crooked grin, and a heavily pregnant woman with red hair a few shades darker than the brother standing beside her, a hand upon her round belly. A smile pulled at her lips as she took a step into the lobby and made her way through the crowd.

Ginerva Potter spotted her first, her brown eyes gravitating towards her, her body instinctively recognizing the presence of one of her best friends before her mind did. Her face lit up, peeling away from her husband as she waddled into the crowd and wrapped her strong arms around the friend she had not seen in years. "Hermione!" She cried, hugging her tightly, causing the older witch to laugh and wrap her arms around Ginny as well. The red haired woman pulled back, holding Hermione at arms length as she looked her over, taking in everything about her from the beautifully tamed curls on her head that now fell in beachy waves over her right shoulder, to the smokey eye makeup that dragged ones attention directly to her hazel eyes, to the simple, yet elegant high-necked, long sleeved black gown with a plunging back and a daring slit up her left thigh, to the platform stilettos that gave her another five inches in height. A beautiful silver choker with a glittering emerald rested at the base of her throat, small, glittering hoop earrings just peeking out from her curls. "You look gorgeous!"

Hermione giggled and looked over her friend as well. Hermione wasnt the only one that had grown and changed over the last couple of years that she had been away. No longer was Ginny the small, awkward teenage sister of Ronald. She, like Hermione, had matured into a beautiful young woman. Her face had rounded out ever so slightly, most likely due to the pregnancy weight gain, her crimson hair was styled elegantly on top of her head with small curls falling to frame her face. She wore a gorgeous champagne colored, empire-waist gown, the bodice adorned in embroidered flowers. Her makeup was rather neutral, but brought attention to her large brown eyes that sparkled in the fae lights around them.

"So do you, Gin. Look how big you are!" Ginny didnt mind as Hermione placed her hand gently against her massive stomach, feeling a gentle kick that caused Hermione to giggle. The two girls smiled, but before either were allowed to speak again, two large figures came to stand on either side of Ginny, smiling down at their friend.

"Blimey, Gin, you're not the only one who hasnt seen her." Hermione smiled as she took in the two boys that had been by her side since the beginning. Harry stepped forward, wrapping his strong arms around her tightly and giving her a brotherly kiss on the temple. He hadnt changed much in over the years, if only more handsome and older looking.

"Missed you, 'Mione. Glad you came." She laughed, pulling away.

"Me too. Ive missed you all." Ron came next, practically picking her off the ground in the bear hug he gave her. Ron had taken her sudden move out of the country the hardest. It had only been in the more recent years that they had reconnected. With his newest girlfriend, however, things had been more difficult, but they made it work. After the war, Hermione had made it very clear to him that she only had platonic feelings for him. While it had been a disappointment for him, Hermione had noticed that he didnt take it quite as hard as she thought he might have, and had moved on quickly with his new found fame and fortune. From what Harry and Ginny have told her, he was quite the bachelor and typically had a new girlfriend every other week or so. She wasnt quite surprised.

"Good to see you, 'Mione. You look lovely." He told her when he finally rested her back on her feet and stepped back. She laughed, smoothing out her dress again and shooting him a wide grin.

"Thank you, Ronald. You as well."

"I heard mum's helping you tonight?" He asked. She nodded her head, holding her clutch tightly before her.

"She is. She's the reason Im here, honestly. All but stormed into my new flat and forced me out the door, wouldnt take ' _no_ ' for an answer." Everyone laughed, nodding understandingly. They all knew how Mrs. Weasley could get.

The group chatted for another few minutes, asking Hermione how the move had gone and what her new flat in Notting Hill was like before the Ministry Officials realized who, exactly, was in attendance this year, and swooped down upon Hermione like a herd of centaurs, pulling her away from her friends. Hermione didnt mind, shaking hands and having brief conversations with a number of people that she would very soon begin to work along side with. She was greeted by Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, who also asked her about her personal endeavors before he too was carried off into the crowd. Hermione took it in stride, accepting a glass of champagne and sipping it every once in a while as she listened to witches and wizards alike speak about themselves, their families, their jobs and their accomplishments in attempts to impress her. Some asked her to work with them right out, while others hinted at it kindly. She simply smiled and politely declined, moving on with the conversation.

At one point during the night, Hermione noticed that on the outskirts of the lobby, there stood a group of people she was relatively surprised to see. Harry had kept her up to date about the happenings within the wizarding world of England, including the status and acceptance back into the social classes of a specific group of Slytherins. They stood further away from the others, keeping to their own usual social circles, but every now and then a higher ministry official would come and speak with one or a few of them before moving off back into the main crowd. Hermione recognized a number of familiar faces from two different generations, and quickly turned her gaze away when she saw one in particular.

About halfway through the evening, the Minister mounted a stage to the right side of the fountain, coming up to a podium to address the audience, as was typical for an occasion such as this. His speech was short and sweet, thanking everyone for attending and for mingling with one another to commemorate the day that changed the wizarding world forever. Unfortunately, during his speech, he decided to point out the three figures within the statue standing above him, and the respective inspirations standing within the crowd. Harry and Ron smiled and waved, as was typical for them, but the Minister made a special point of making it known that Hermione, herself, had managed to skip out the last five years of the annual gala, bringing the attention of everyone in attendance directly upon her for a moment or two. She blushed and raised a hand politely, shooting the Minister a reproachful look that caused him to laugh slightly before quickly moving on.

Those who hadnt realized that Hermione Granger was in attendance knew now and converged upon her like a tidal wave. Somehow, she managed to escape and headed quickly for the refreshments, where she gained a new glass of champagne and downed a glass of water, sighing in relief. She had been prepared for the montage of people vying for her attention, but apparently not at this kind of level.

"Ms. Granger," Hermione jumped slightly and turned around, coming face to face with a woman she had not expected to speak with. Narcissa Malfoy was a vision in a gorgeous gown of pearlescent white, studded with gems and pearls across the waist line. Her blonde hair was pulled elegantly away from her aristocratic face, blue eyes sparkling with amusement as they looked her over before settling back on her own hazel ones. "My apologies, I didnt mean to scare you."

"No," Hermione waved it off with a soft, polite smile, "I wasnt paying attention. You look lovely, Mrs. Malfoy." She complimented. It had been almost six years since she had seen Narcissa Malfoy, the last time being the day of the Malfoy's trial where both she, and Harry had testified on their behalf. Since then, Mrs. Malfoy seemed to have changed just as Harry had mentioned. She looked... happy. Happy in a way that they had never seen her.

"You as well," Narcissa purred, a small smirk on her thin lips, "I simply wanted to congratulate you on your new appointment within the Ministry." Hermione nodded. It had been announced during Kingsley's speech that Hermione would be working with Harry in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, just below him as the Deputy Head.

"Thank you, I look forward to the new position." She paused for a moment before giving the witch before her a small, almost secretive smile, "Congratulations on the success of your fashion line." Narcissa's eyes sparkled, suddenly straightening to her full height, excited to speak about her accomplishments that were no doubt a passion of hers. After the war, the Malfoy business had taken a very hard and sudden drop in their income. Narcissa, keen to do something other than sit around and play housewife to her husband for any longer, had started up her own fashion line and, quite surprisingly, was highly successful, earning back their fortune within only a couple of years. Hermione wondered just how hard a hit Lucius' pride had taken with that.

"Thank you, I had always thought about starting my own line. Better late than never, as they say." Hermione giggled and nodded. "I am coming out with a new collection in August," Narcissa continued, looking Hermione over with a critical eye, "I wonder if you might like it."

"I actually have a number of outfits from you in my own closet," she commented, watching as the smile on the woman's face before her widened, "as well as a few pairs of shoes."

"Do you now?" Narcissa's purr was almost wicked with appreciation. Hermione nodded.

"Indeed. A few suits, as well as a number of skirts I wear for work quite often. I also have a cream colored gown that I wore to a wedding this past winter." Narcissa tilted her head slightly.

"Strapless with diamonds along the bodice and waist with a short train?" Hermione grinned and nodded.

"The very same."

"Hmm," She mused, taking a sip of her champagne, "one of my personal favorites." Narcissa turned her attention to the garment that Hermione was currently wearing and reached out towards her waist, taking a bit of fabric in her hand and feeling it. A blush rose on Hermione's cheeks, but she let the woman marvel at the way the fabric was eloquently cut, stitched and pieced together. "Simple, but beautiful. Where did you get it, if I may ask?" Narcissa asked, stepping back with another tilt of her head. Hermione opened her mouth, blushing furiously, only to be interrupted by a deep, masculine drawl from her right.

"Now, dear, I believe that is enough badgering Ms. Granger." The two women turned simultaneously to find the two powerfully built males of the Malfoy family. Lucius stood near his wife, one hand wrapped delicately around the head of his cane. His shoulder length blonde hair was brushed and polished, framing his strong face that looked down at Hermione with an amused glint. His lips were tilted into a small smirk, grey eyes flicking over her once, quickly, before turning back to his wife. He wore a dark suit beneath his dress robes, that were open slightly, revealing the dark tie knotted at the base of his throat.

Hermione let herself glance over his son quickly. Like his father, he was tall, giving off an aura of power, dominance and superiority. His white-blonde hair was cut short, brushed slightly to the side, drawing attention to the sparkling grey eyes that watched her with amusement and interest. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his black slacks, a black shirt tucked into them with a similar tie to his father. He lacked the robes, showing off the larger, powerful muscles he had developed as an adult, the fabric of his dark shirt stretching tightly over his shoulders and biceps. Hermione noticed that he leaned back slightly on his heels as he took in every inch of her, letting his eyes settle on a couple key areas of her body before continuing on. She blushed even more furiously than she already had been and turned her gaze away pointedly towards his mother, who was smiling serenely up at her husband.

"I was not badgering, Lucius," she quipped, glancing towards Hermione and the dress she adorned, "I was simply asking where she got this lovely gown." The attention was back on her and she glanced down at herself once, heart hammering in her chest for stupid, childish reasons. She paused for a moment, debating lying, before she finally replied.

"I, actually, made it myself, Mrs. Malfoy." Narcissa blinked, while Lucius hummed under his breath, tilting his chin up ever so slightly and glancing towards his son. Hermione refused to let her gaze wonder towards the youngest Malfoy, keeping her hazel eyes focused on his mother, whose slightly shocked expression turned into an impressed one.

"Did you really?" Hermione nodded, brushing a stray curl from her eyes and over her ear. She smiled slightly.

"I dabble in a number of hobbies when Im not consistently working." Narcissa hummed, similarly to her husband, eyes wondering over the gown and took a step to her left, glancing around Hermione to look at the back in more detail.

"Have you made any others?" Hermione took a sip of her champagne with a small shrug.

"A few things, all personal projects."

"Well," Narcissa took her place beside her husband once more with a determined glint in her eyes, "Im sure there's no possible way of me talking you into leaving the Ministry to work with me, would there?" Hermione couldnt help the laugh that escaped her, shaking her head lightly.

"No, Mrs. Malfoy, unfortunately there isn't."

"Pity, it's so difficult finding talented help these days."

"That, mother," Draco drawled from only a few feet away, shooting his mother a pointed glance, "is because _some_ people have set their expectations far too high." Narcissa shot her son a humored glared and took a sip of her wine, an emotion Hermione couldnt name dancing in her eyes as she looked back towards her.

"I have no doubt that Ms. Granger would have few problems meeting my expectations." Hermione flushed red and took a sip of her own drink, turning away towards the crowd for a moment. She couldnt deny that she did not mind speaking with Mrs. Malfoy, in fact, the conversation flowed easily. Having her son around, however, was seriously making her pulse race.

"I believe that Ms. Grangers talents are being well utilized within the Ministry, dear." Lucius commented, causing Hermione to glance over at him with a raised brow. He nodded approvingly.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I look forward to working with Harry and the other Aurors. It will be a much needed change from working my muggle job in Australia." She had been hesitant to bring it up, but once she did, she noticed no change in emotion coming from the Malfoys- Lucius especially. He simply tilted his head slightly, moving his cane to the front of his body, resting both of his hands on top of it, his blonde hair falling like a curtain on either side of his face.

"And what, exactly, did you do in the muggle world while you were there, if I may ask?" Hermione blinked, surprised that he would even ask, but swallowed the wine she had just sipped and gave a pleased smile.

"I was a nurse- a mid-level muggle healer." Narcissa blinked, straightening slightly, glancing at her husband before turning towards Draco.

"Draco works as a healer at St. Mungos." Hermione raised a brow, forcing herself to turn to where he stood to her right, hand still shoved in her pockets, a strange look on his face. He was watching her, studying her, examining every movement she made, every word she said. His heated gaze had been roaming over every part of her since she had walked through the door, even more so when he and his father had joined this conversation and now, well, now there was something else there. He blinked, realizing the conversation had been brought to him and gave her a crooked smile with a soft nod.

"I just finished residency." He explained with a shrug, blowing off the comment. Lucius clapped a hand on his sons shoulder.

"And is practically running the show already. They call Draco in for all of the important cases." Hermione watched a pale flush bloom on Malfoy's cheeks. She tilted her head slightly.

"I didnt expect you to go into healing, honestly." She stated, watching the way his grey eyes returned to hers. There was something there, dancing behind the steel-colored glass of his eyes that she couldnt describe. It made her stomach tighten in knots.

"I dont think anyone did." Hermione didnt respond, unsure, really, of how to, but was unable to pull her gaze away from him. A smirk pulled at his lips, he took a sip of his champagne, grey eyes flicking over her once more. She turned away, noticing the way his parents watched them critically with... were they amused? Hermione flushed, but turned as she heard the sound of hurried footsteps and found Ginny rushing to her side, breathing heavily, looking positively peeved.

"You," she snapped, pointing at Hermione, "you know how to control them." She blinked, raising an eyebrow at her angry friend.

"Pardon?" Ginny rolled her eyes, turning and waved a hand in the vague direction of the crowd.

"My _stupid_ husband and my _stupid_ brother," she turned back, brown eyes clouded with annoyance, "are getting embarrassingly drunk with the Minister."

"How embarrassing?"

"Code red." The tiny ginger deadpanned. Hermione shut her eyes for a moment, tilting her head back towards the ceiling with a heavy sigh before downing the rest of her champagne and passing her glass off to Ginny, turning to smile apologetically towards Narcissa.

"My apologies, but it looks like I have to go play babysitter long enough to get those two to floo home." Narcissa and Lucius both smirked at her, before Narcissa leaned in, wrapping Hermione up in a tight hug with a kiss on the cheek.

"Have a good night dear," she purred as she pulled away, "dont be a stranger. I would love to design some more clothes for you." Hermione left with a slightly confused smile and a vague acceptance towards Mrs. Malfoy's offer before being dragged back into the party by an irritated red-haired witch with the heated gaze of the youngest Malfoy searing into her bare back.

* * *

Draco watched as the two women fled into the tangle of the crowd, taking a calculated sip of his champagne. He watched the way that her hips moved beneath the fabric of that form-fitting black dress, the way the muscles of her back moved with each step, the way her hair bounced slightly. He could remember the feeling of her perfect, warm skin beneath his hand; the way her hips curved, the muscles of her thighs, the slope of her breasts. He could remember the smell of her hair: eucalyptus and mint, just as she had smelled now. His grey eyes glazed over with the memory of her, the memory of _them_ just before she left-

"Draco," he blinked, turning to his parents who both smirked knowingly. His mother had known, she had always known, from the first letter he had sent home during his first year at Hogwarts, complaining about _Potter_ , and _Weasley_ , and bloody _Granger_. Complaining about the way she was already ahead of him in classes, about the way she answered every question in class, practically reciting definitions out of the book, about the way that her bushy hair always got in his way. His mother had known, in the way that mothers _always_ know.

His father had came to the same conclusion not long after, and especially that day in the manor, when she laid on the floor of their parlor, watching as Auntie Bella tortured her over and over again. His mother had wrapped her arms around his shoulder in the only safe manor of comfort at the moment. His father had clapped a hand on his shoulder, both of his parents insisting that Bellatrix stop, that she had gone far enough, to give the girl a break.

They had known.

As parents always know.

"Draco," Narcissa raised a brow, turning over her shoulder slightly in the way that Hermione Granger had disappeared, "Im surprised you havent tried to speak with her alone." His mother had always been point-blank. His father, oh, his father was still learning how to live life without keeping up generations of appearances. It was difficult. Slow-moving. His mother, however, had never been a fan of upholding a mask of expressions, polite, shallow conversations and blood-hatred stupidity. She dropped that act faster than Voldemort's body hit the floor of the Great Hall. Draco took a breath, turning back to where Granger and Red had disappeared into the congested crowd and took another sip of his drink.

"I got the feeling she didnt want to speak with me."

"I believe," Lucius drawled, brushing a strand of white-blonde hair from his face, "she was simply nervous." Draco glanced towards his father slightly with a frown. "She's been gone, Draco. She doesnt know how much you have changed. How we've _all_ changed." Draco sighed, but nodded. His father was right. Six years wasnt a long time with the history of the Malfoy family, but six years really could work wonders upon a person. Upon many people.

His mother came up to his side and placed a warm hand upon his shoulder, leaning up to place a soft kiss against her sons pale cheek, smiling. "Im sure you'll have plenty of chances to speak with her." Narcissa and Lucius turned away, returning to the social circle of Slytherins that had always been their comfort blanket among ministry occasions. He stood there at the refreshments table for a moment longer, memories of that night in London six years ago flashing in his head, before he too returned to his friends sides. Blaise and Theo raised amused brows, to which he simply shrugged. A conversation in itself.

 _So? You and your parents talking with Granger?_

 _It was nothing. She barely talked to me._

End of conversation.

* * *

 **Hello, all.**

 **I know many of you loved the original version of Six Years, but I re-read it recently and just think that it needed some major adjustments. I hope you all enjoy this. I hope to continue working on this for you all. **

**Much Love.**


	3. Chapter Two

**Hello loves,**

 **I just wanted to bring something to attention before I begin this next chapter. While I am very good at taking criticism and very much appreciate it, I felt that others probably were thinking the same thing as this unnamed prick, so I would bring it up.**

 **1\. The reason that I gave Hermione a muggle job while in Australia as a _Nurse_ is because the time period between her leaving and her returning back to England is _SIX YEARS_ (If you havent noticed by the title of this fic...). Now, I am American, meaning my knowledge of education and timing when it comes to Nursing and Doctoring may different from different countries, but its pretty damn extensive in these regards. By this, I mean, that here in America, if someone were to become a licensed doctor, it takes 4 Year of undergrad...  plus another 4 years of graduate school... plus another year or more of residency. Thats a total of nine (plus) years of MUGGLE education. **

**The reason that she became a nurse is because it is entirely understandable for her to be able to get at least an Associates (2 year) degree, or even a Bachelors (4 year) degree within the time that she spent in Australia (although I dont know if that is any different in Australia, as I am writing and basing my knowledge off of American education).**

 **The reason that I wrote Draco as having become a full-fledged healer during the 6 year time span is because _I dont bloody know what the time schedule is for a fucking healer it is a goddamned fictional story I will write this anyway I damn well please, thank you very much._**

 **2\. Regarding your lovely comment of "Get a Beta, you really need it." Ahem... welcome to the lovely world of fanfiction, where many of you lovely authors do have Betas. That is absolutely spectacular for you. However, this is a little side hobby for me. One where, I quite often, end up forgetting about the stories I have started because, surprisingly enough, I do have a very complicated and time consuming life OFF OF THE INTERNET.**

 **Mind. Blown.**

 **Let me introduce to you some of the things I do on the daily basis: I go to work. Crazy. Im a responsible adult with a stable job that expects me to be there every day for the scheduled hours. Wow. I also have a family, who expect to see me more than once every couple of months. I have my own personal projects I am working on, and hope to one day publish that are WAYYYY higher on my priority list than this website. I have friends. I have hobbies. I have responsibilities. I have relationships. I have my fucking cat, which trumps your opinionated ass.**

 **So, no. I dont have a beta. Yes, I write directly onto the Fanfic site. No, I dont add apostrophes to my contractions because Im lazy. Yes, I do love your criticism, please keep it coming, but moral of the story, I couldnt give a flying fuck what the hell you thought of me, or this story.**

 **Thank you, have a splendid evening, hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Golden tendrils of light snaked their way across the dark oak wood floors of the bedroom, climbing up the side of the large bed and over the plush, white comforter to the figure hidden beneath the mass of comfortable blankets. A tangled nest of chestnut curls peaked out from beneath the duvet, the pale skin of an arm visible beside it. A fluff of orange fur was nestled beside the shape beneath the blankets, its puff of a tail twitching back and forth lightly as soft purrs filled the room. It was early morning in Notting Hill, the sun just beginning to rise over the buildings, the sky still stained pink and orange and purple.

The figure upon the bed moved, kicking a foot out at the end of the bed before quickly yanking it back beneath the covers with a soft moan. She rolled, the orange fluff of fur lifting its head to send a glare in her direction before getting up and hopping off the bed, slipping between the crack of the door and disappearing from sight. His owner rolled, yanking the covers with her and covered her eyes with her arm against the bright light of her morning sun. It had been a long time since she had drank, and while it hadnt even been that much through the night, a soft pounding ached behind her eyes and her stomach growled, empty and wishing to be fed. She moaned once more, wondering if she should just roll over and go back to bed, but knew that her body would never allow it. She had spent years training her bodily clock to wake her up this early, and no matter how much she wished to stay in bed all day, she would never go back to sleep.

Hermione remained there for a few moments longer, staring at the white caulking of her ceiling before she threw back the covers, frowning down at herself dressed in nothing but her knickers and strode towards her adjacent bathroom, shutting the door behind her. The night before was a blur of memories, of drinking and socializing and interviews upon boring interviews. She could remember all but shoving Harry and Ron through the flew back to their respective homes. She could remember speaking with the Minister, and with ghosts from her past.

And then she could remember him.

 _He came up beside her without making a sound, appearing as if he had stepped out of the shadows behind her. She jumped, turning halfway towards him with a shocked expression before cooling her features into well-trained neutrality. Blank. Emotionless. He was smirking at her, smirking in the way that he had always done, looking her over appreciatively before smiling and nodding to whatever the wizard she had previously been speaking with only moments before had said, taking her elbow within his large, warm hand and guiding her gently away towards the side of the lobby. She blinked, frowned, wondering why she let him, but it was far too late to retreat now. She gripped her glass tightly, frowning up at him as he stopped and turned to look at her._

 _Grown, he had grown. He had always been taller than her, taller than Harry even. In school he had been slim, lean like Ron but in what could only be described as a sophisticated, toned way. Where Ron had always been gangly, Malfoy was... refined. Yet, now, he had muscles she had never expected to see on his body. His shoulders were rounded with muscle, his biceps well developed, his chest hard with corded muscle. He was far from looking similar to a rugby player, or body builder, but there was definitely a definition there she hadnt expected to see. His hair was only slightly shorter, styled nicely, his jaw more defined, his lashes longer. He smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets._

 _"Granger."_

 _"Malfoy." She bit back automatically. Guarded, she was guarded. If he knew... she would lose everything. It would be so much easier if he wasnt here, if she wasnt here, if she never returned. Maybe she should go back to Australia- "Is there a reason you pulled me over here?" Malfoy nodded slightly, glancing towards the rest of the party before back to her. What was that emotion in his eyes?_

 _"I was actually curious as to the reason that you moved." Of course he was. She sighed through her nose._

 _"Personal reasons." She stated automatically, taking a step backwards, ready to flee. "If youll excus-"_

 _"It wasnt because of me, was it?" He asked with a slight frown, "Because of that night?" Hermione blinked. **Emotionless. Blank. Dont show anything.**_

 _"No, Malfoy. It wasnt." He didnt seem to buy it. He took a step forward, a larger step than she had taken backward. He was now officially within her personal space. Hermione didnt realize she was holding her breath until she was forced to inhale, and with it came the spicy, musky, woodsy scent of Draco Malfoy that she had never been able to get out of her head. Her fingers began to shake._

 _"Are you sure?" He whispered, grey eyes swirling with an unknown emotion. He watched her, brows creased ever so slightly. She felt his fingers on her wrist, warm and comforting. Memories flashed across her mind. The feeling of his hands, surprisingly warm, across the skin between her shirt and her jeans. The feeling of his lips against her neck. Their bodies pressed together between grey satin sheets._

 _"Positive."_

She shook her head, going about her morning routine, chasing away the faint hangover that plagued her with a steamy shower and painkillers. She made a mental note to stock up on some pepper-up potion the next time she went to Diagon Alley. Once fully showered, her teeth brushed and the barest of makeup dusting her face, Hermione stepped back into her bedroom with a towel wrapped around her drying hair and began a thorough search of her closet for comfortable clothing to wear for the rest of the day.

She ultimately decided upon a nice pair of dark washed jeans, matched with a dark green top that paired nicely with her lightly tanned skin. She tousled her chocolate curls with the towel before tossing it onto her bed, flicking her wrist with a silent spell that dried her styled her hair into voluminous, layered waves (a spell she had perfected during her time in Australia). That settled, Hermione exited her bedroom, walking down the hall to her living room, to the stone and wood fireplace was built into her wall. She slipped on a pair of flats, grabbed a handful of floo powder, stepped into the fireplace and with a loud ' _THE BURROW_ ', disappeared into brilliant green flames.

She appeared in a familiar building that was mostly wood and a variety of knickknacks. On the slightly slumping couch were a pair of knitting needles suspended in the air knitting away at what could only be a Weasley sweater, already working towards Christmas. In the kitchen sink was a sponge working away at a set of pots and pans while the silverware was being dried by a dish towel. A rather plump woman wearing a faded dress of pastel pink and lavender flowers, with slightly greying hair rounded the corner around the fireplace, an apron around her waist and a smile on her motherly face, raising up her arms to pull Hermione into a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh, good morning, dear. Did you have a nice time last night?" She asked, pulling away to hold Hermione by her shoulders and look her over. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, tilting her head slightly. "You're looking a bit peaky. Are you hungry? We've only just finished breakfast, but I can make you something." Hermione laughed and shook her head, thanking Mrs. Weasley.

"Im fine, thank you. I had a great time." The elder witch nodded, pleased, letting go of Hermione and motioning around the corner, further into the living room.

"She's coloring for a bit, hasnt gotten up to bathe quite yet, we werent sure when you would be coming to pick her up."

"That's fine, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you so much for watching her." She waved off the comment, shooing Hermione away from her with a small smile. Mrs. Weasley loved having children in her house, and now that her own were all up and gone, she did have a couple of grandchildren, but it wasnt quite the same. Hermione walked around the fireplace to the living room and smiled.

Sitting on the floor before the coffee table, with crayons strewn about, was a little girl, barely five years old. She knelt on the floor, completely absorbed in the drawing before her. She was gifted with an ability that a cousin of hers had, a rare genetic mutation that Hermione, herself, had only seen twice in her life in a lively, beautiful woman and the son she and her husband had left an orphan, soon turning seven. Her curly hair, at the moment, was the color of a juicy plum, magenta with hints of purple in the undertones. Her skin was a shade or two paler than she usually kept it, freckles dotting her cheeks and nose.

Hermione knew the child before her better than she knew her own self. She knew the dainty little hands, so delicate and warm, and the way they were almost always wrapped around her own. She knew the feeling of her hair between her fingers, those almond shaped eyes that seemed to always flick from one color to another because she could never decide on which for more than a few moments. She knew the feeling of that little body curled against hers at night, when she was having trouble sleeping and would come into her bedroom. She smiled.

It didnt take long for the little girl to realize she was no longer alone, tilting her head up and looking up at Hermione with wide, indigo colored eyes. She blinked, registered who stood before her and a wide, gap-toothed smile split across her face. "Mumma!" She abandoned her coloring, leaping around the coffee table and slammed into Hermione's legs, wrapping herself around them like a pretzel, looking up at her mother with wide, sparkling eyes. "Mumma, I missed you!" Hermione laughed, leaning down awkwardly to place a kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"I missed you too, munchkin. Did you have a good time with Grandma Molly?" Molly Weasley was by no means Natasha Granger's biological grandmother, but the woman had become a second mother to Hermione, and would be in their lives until the day that she passed. It only felt right to give her the title as much as her own mother. Natasha nodded up at her mother, detaching herself from her leg and raced back over to her coloring book, holding it up and showing her mother all of the pictures that she and Grandma Molly had colored. Hermione listened, nodding along and praising her daughter when necessary.

"And then we made cookies too, but we sent some over to Uncle George and Aunt Angelina and then to Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur." Hermione nodded, gathering up her daughters supplies as she listened. "I think we still have some though! You should try one, mum, they're really good!" Hermione laughed, looking down at her daughter that was bouncing on her toes, glancing towards the kitchen excitedly. She knew her daughter, she wasnt talking about the cookies because she wanted Hermione to try one. She was talking about them because it was her way of asking to have one, without blatantly asking. While Hermione usually wouldnt let Natasha have a cooking at eight-thirty in the morning, she was feeling rather generous and gave her daughter a small nod of the head.

Indigo eyes widened with surprise and happiness, and with a flash of magenta hair, the little girl was out of the room and into the kitchen, prattling off to Mrs. Weasley about how ' _her mumma just said she could have a cookie, so could she please have a cookie, please, please, pleeeeeease?_ ' Hermione followed soon after, a handful of crayons in her hand and smiled over at Mrs. Weasley, who had her hands on her hips, looking down at the energetic child before her with a raised brow.

"She can have a cookie, Mrs. Weasley." She assured, shoving the crayons and coloring book into the bag sitting on a kitchen chair. Mrs. Weasley shot her a look, but reached into the cookie jar next to the stove and held it out to Natasha, who politely thanked her before shoving the entire cookie into her mouth in one bite, causing her cheeks to puff out and small crumbs to fall from her pink lips.

"Natasha Emily, is that how we eat cookies?" Hermione chastised, placing her hands on her hips. Her daughter looked over at her mother with wide eyes, pausing for a moment before she chewed quickly and swallowed the entire thing, chasing it all down with a glass of milk that floated over to her, courtesy of Mrs. Weasley who chuckled beside her.

"No, mumma." She mumbled, once she had finished, reaching over the lip of the counter in attempt to place the glass directly in the sink.

"So what are we going to do next time?" Her mother asked, coming up beside her and taking the glass to rest in the sink for her. Her daughter sighed, looking guilty.

"Take bites." Hermione nodded, pleased and tousled her daughters curls, that were much easier to manage than her own.

"Thank you. Go gather up your things so we can say goodbye to Grandma Molly." She gave her daughter a soft swat on the butt, ushering her back up the stairs to Ginny's old bedroom to gather up her clothes and belongings from the night before. She came up to Mrs. Weasley's side, reaching into the cookie jar for one of her own, and leaned back against the counter as she watched Mrs. Weasley begin putting things away from breakfast. There was a pause for a moment, as they listened to the patter of Tasha's little feet race up the stairs, before Mrs. Weasley turned to her.

"She's gotten so big." Hermione nodded. She had.

It had been only a few months after Hermione had given birth to Tasha that she returned back to the Burrow with the little bundle of joy in her arms to celebrate Harry and Ginny's wedding. While all of her friends and secondary family had been aware that Hermione had been pregnant, and thus had been the reason for her up and leave from the country, they had only seen Tasha in the pictures she had sent via owl from Australia (the letters she did send were relatively far and few between because damn that is a long trip for an owl, the poor things). It had been the one time that anyone had met Tasha before she finally came back just a few nights ago. They would all be converging again the following day at the burrow for weekly Sunday dinner, where everyone was extremely excited to see Hermione and Tasha again.

The announcement of who, exactly, Tasha's father was, was taken quite a bit harder than the announcement of her pregnancy. Not that she had been surprised. Harry and Ron had, by far, taken it the hardest compared to the others. While the others were skeptical, but politely reassuring and supportive, the two idiots she called best friends had thrown the biggest hissy fit she had ever witnessed. Even her five year old didnt throw temper tantrums the same way the two adult males did. Eventually, however, all was accepted once they had actually met little Tasha, and while they still werent quite happy about the situation, the understanding that there was nothing that could be changed finally dawned on them.

Like usual, it took more time than necessary, but they finally came around.

"She's going to love Teddy." Hermione giggled around a bite of her cookie.

"She already does. They write to each other all the time." It was true. At around three years old, Tasha had come to Hermione asking why she was so different from everyone she knew. She asked why she had to keep her hair one, certain color, when they went out in public with muggles, why she couldnt change her eyes, why it scared people when she grew cat ears and a tail like Crookshanks. And while she explained, in the best way she possibly could, that it wasnt something many muggle people saw, so they were afraid, she decided to reassure her by letting her know she had a cousin that could do the same thing.

That was the beginning of the beautiful friendship between Natasha Granger and Teddy Lupin.

Hermione had yet to tell her daughter that she would actually be _meeting_ Teddy tomorrow, at their family gathering. She wanted to keep it a surprise.

Natasha came back down to the kitchen, stumbling over the stairs and falling on her face, to which the older witches jumped and lunged towards her, but the young child simply jumped back up with a wide grin and raced towards her mother again. Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering where, in the world, this child got her energy from. She knew for a fact that she, herself, had not been that energetic as a child and she had a hard time imagining that her father had been. Tasha came up to stand beside her, carrying the small, pink backpack on her shoulders and bouncing on her toes. Mrs. Weasley chuckled under her breath, reaching forward and wrapping both of them in a warm hug.

"We'll see you tomorrow, dears." She said, pulling back, kissing Hermione on the cheek.

"Do you want me to bring anything?" Hermione asked, with a small frown. Mrs. Weasley scoffed, shoving her lightly in the direction of the door with a shake of her head. Hermione knew that Molly would never let her make anything to bring over, cooking and preparation were specifically _her_ responsibilities. Hermione sighed, smiling slightly, taking Tasha's hand in her own as they stepped out into the yard with Mrs. Weasley at the door. The elder woman looked out into her garden and gave a frustrated sigh.

"Remind me to have the boys de-gnome the garden tomorrow, would you dear?" Hermione giggled and nodded, holding onto her daughter tightly to prevent her from racing off towards the garden and the gnomes that bounced around the plants.

"I will, Mrs. Weasley. See you tomorrow." Mrs. Weasley watched as the two women walked across the yard until they reached the apparation point, to where they disappeared from view with a _crack_.

* * *

It was several hours later that Hermione Granger found herself standing in Diagon Alley with a hyper five year old clinging to her hand, pointing at every little thing she saw. While they had indeed, gone to the wizarding shops in Australia, it was nothing compared to Diagon Ally and the place she had grown up visiting. She felt a sense of familiarity and the feeling of being home as she walked through the alley with Tasha, reigning her in as she tried to bounce off in every direction to see the cats and the owls and the brooms and the wands and the jewelry and-

"Mum! Ice Cream!" Hermione couldnt help the smile that lit her face as she body belt towards the side, dragged down by the weight of her child pulling against her. She pulled her back gently and leaned down to Tasha's height, brushing a strand of, now sky blue, hair from her freckled face. There were three key features that Hermione and Natasha shared: the almond shape of their eyes, the freckles dotting their cheeks and nose and the cupids-bow shape of their mouths and smiles. Her eyes had changed to a bright, forest green speckled with yellow and brown, her skin a few shades darker than it was before. She looked up at her mother pleadingly, lower lip jutting out slightly.

"You already had a cookie this morning, Tasha." Hermione said. "I think you've had enough." Tasha's eyes grew wider and her frown deepened.

"But mumma, I havent had ice cream in _forever!"_ Hermione sighed. While she spoiled her daughter absolutely rotten, she didnt give her as much sugar and sweets that other children consumed. It was true that it had been a while since either of them had had ice cream. Glancing down the Alley, she paused for a moment. Tasha had been exceptionally good and on her best behavior since the move. She, while not quite understanding _exactly_ what was happening, had been excited to at least be able to see Grandma Molly and live in her new room at the flat. She was being a very good girl for Hermione.

"How about this," she sighed, turning back to her daughter with a soft smile. She was such a pushover for this girl, "how about we go run all of the errands that mummy has to run and then before we go home, we can get ice cream?" Natasha's eyes lit up like fireworks and she nodded excitedly, gripping Hermione's hand even tighter and walking beside her down the alley.

Hermione, when she wanted to, was exceptionally good at avoiding the public eye and reporters. While it was inevitable that she and Natasha were probably going to be photographed at some point during their visit to the Alley (which she had completely prepared herself for), after years of sneaking out after hours during Hogwarts with the boys, and racing around the country avoiding snatchers and Death Eaters, she had become rather adept at losing a tailing reporter. She and Tasha stopped into Flourish and Blotts, to _of course_ pick up some _much needed_ books, as both girls were life-long book lovers. They zipped quickly into Eyelops for owl treats, Madam Malkins for a new robe for Tasha, Slug and Jiggers for the long list of ingredients and potions that Hermione needed, as well as a new cauldron from Potage's (since Tasha had accidentally thrown in three beetle carcasses into the potion that Hermione had been mixing, causing the entire thing to explode and her cauldron to crack. While she might have been able to repair it, a new cauldron was needed anyway, giving her the excuse to finally go buy one).

It was only when Hermione passed Twilfitt and Tattings, debating on whether she should stop in for a new set of robes for her new job at the ministry, that she spotted the familiar orange and purple building that had her heart wrenching slightly. Her mind fell back to the war, and the sight of one half of an unbreakable pair lying unmoving on the floor of the Great Hall. She took a steadying breath, pausing and looking down at her daughter, whose eyes were locked on a stall selling pastries. "Tasha?" She asked, catching her daughters attention. Tasha looked up at her mother, giving her a gap-toothed grin, "do you want to go see Uncle George?"

"Uncle George is here!?" Her screech echoed across the alley, jumping up and down, her sky-blue hair turning into a kaleidoscope of energetic pink, red, yellow and orange, her curls falling down past her waist, her eyes turning an even brighter green. Hermione raised a brow and chuckled, nodding, pointing towards the store, where children mingled outside. "Come on, mum!" Hermione let Tasha pull her across the alley to the store that she had spent quite some time in herself. They wound their way through the tangle of children out front, all playing with the newest gadgets and latest means of pranking that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had to offer.

They hurried inside to the ever-crowded shop, Hermione looking around for the a familiar head of orange-red hair, and found it standing at the stop of the steps that led up to their offices and personal flat above the shop. Hermione reached down, grabbing her daughter around the waist and pulling her tiny body up onto her hip. While she was definitely not a baby anymore, she still remained at a smaller size than most five-year-olds. It was a rare occurance when Tasha would adjust her height, or anything else aside from her eyes and hair. They hurried through the crowd and over to the stairs, ascending quickly. They were halfway up when George and Angelina, the dark skinned beauty to his left, realized they were there.

"Hermione bloody Granger, is that you?" George met them at the top of the steps, wrapping both girls into a tight hug. He kissed her cheek and then turned to Tasha, who was staring at him wide-eyed, a smile on her face. "And you must be Natasha. I have been waiting to see you again for so long!" He kissed her head and Hermione let her down onto the ground, where she continued to stare in awe up at her adoptive uncle. Hermione chuckled.

"What do you say, Tasha?" The little girl blinked and smiled widely.

"Hello, Uncle George. Hello, Aunt Angelina." Angie moved forward and knelt down to Tasha's height, giving her a warm smile, a tight hug and kiss.

"Look at you, big girl. You've grown so much!" They stood there at the top of the stairs for a few moments longer, with George and Angie fawning over Natasha, before they invited them into their kitchen down the hall, telling one of their associates to watch over the shop for a while. They didnt remain long, however, simply stopping for a cup of tea, to which they caught up for a few moments. Hermione asked about the shop, and about little Fred Weasley II, who had been born that year. He was spending the day with Angelina's parents, but Angie assured Hermione that she would meet him the following day at Weasley family dinner. George and Angie asked how moving in had been, and if she was excited to start her new job with the Ministry that following Monday. They asked Natasha how she was doing, and George took an opportunity to show her some of his newest inventions. It was at that point that Hermione decided to bid their leave, with a quick ' _See you all tomorrow, and George **dont** bring any of your inventions_ ', leaving the shop with a bag full of them, anyway.

It was only then that Tasha reminded her about their deal and they stopped at Fortesques for some ice cream. _That_ is when a reporter got a picture of them. They were standing in line, Hermione leaning down to Tasha's height, a hand on her back, pointing up at the sign and explaining what they had as flavors, when a bright light flashed to her right. She blinked, automatically taking her daughter by the shoulders and pulling her to the opposite side of body, turning an icy glare upon the young reporter standing in the doorway of the building. He gave her a crooked grin, raising the camera again, another bright flash blinding her for a moment.

"Ms. Granger! Ms. Hermione Granger, is that your daughter? What's her name? How old is she? Who's the father? Is it Mr. Weasley? Does he know he has a daughter?" Hermione stood up, shoving her hands into her pockets and yanking out a few gold coins, shoving them angrily into the hands of the cashier at the desk, who passed her the two cones of ice cream with somewhat shaky hands, watching her nervously. "Does this mean the two of you are finally getting together? Is that the real reason you came back, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione knelt down to her daughter's height, blocking her view of the reporter in the doorway of Fortescues. Her hair, that had been the blur of color like the sunrise when they had left Uncle George and Aunt Angie, had faded into the same chestnut brown, hinted with copper and chocolate tones as her mother, her eyes darkening into a deep hazel as well. Twins. They could be twins, now. She handed Tasha her ice cream cone, which the little girl took carefully and held it with both hands. "We're going to eat these at home, okay, darling?" Tasha nodded her head warily and let her mother take a hold of the back of her shirt, guiding her in the direction of the door where the reporter was still spouting questions at her, camera raised for another picture. Hermione glared, stepping behind her daughter and to her other side, keeping herself between Tasha and the reporter.

She had the overpowering urge to whip out her wand and send the reporter racing down the alley with a nasty bat boogie hex, but Tasha was there. She wouldnt do anything of the sort with Tasha there. So, Hermione simply stepped out into the alley, with the reporter on their heels and followed the plan that she already had in her head for such an occasion. She lost him.

It didnt take long, the man had less intelligence than the ice cream cone dripping down her hand. She licked it off her fingers, glancing down to her daughter who was quietly and carefully working on her own cone, her appearance not changing at all until they finally flooed back home from the Leaky Cauldron. "That was a reporter?" Tasha asked, hauling herself onto a barstool at the counter in their kitchen. Hermione went around the other side, taking a few more licks of her cone before throwing it away in the trash, half-eaten. She nodded her head. She had talked to Tasha before going to Diagon Alley about the possibility of someone taking pictures of them. She had been as prepared as Hermione. "I dont like them." Hermione giggled, leaning over the counter and planting a kiss on her daughters nose.

"No, darling, mummy doesnt like them either."

* * *

 **Dear, loves.**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter. I havent had much going on the last couple of days, which is why this is up so quickly after I just uploaded the last one. This might happen every now and then, or it might take a little bit longer, depending. Let me know what you think!**

 **Much Love**


	4. Chapter Three

Hermione knew that with the reporter from Diagon Alley, came the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. She had prepared herself, or so she believed, reminding herself over and over again that she was a war hero. She was being watched. Her life was never private. She should have expected this.

And she did. She did expect it.

But expecting something, and living it, were two entirely different things.

Which is why, the following morning, when the owl who carried the daily news article arrived baring the title: ' _MOMMA_ _BEAR GRANGER, BUT WHO IS PAPA BEAR_?' Hermione, quite literally, caused her couch to explode all over her living room. She stood there, fingers clenched tightly around the flimsy paper that scrunched beneath her grip, face turning a steady shade of scarlet as stuffing fell around her like snow, sticking to her slightly damp curls. Right there, on the front page, Hermione knelt beside her daughter, her sunset colored hair bright against her down dark curls slightly behind her, pointing up and muttering to her about ice cream flavors before a flash went off, Hermione turning a shocked gaze that quickly turned angry, towards the camera, pulling her daughter behind her whose hair quickly deepened into a dark brown, her skin darkening two shades, her chin rounding out, her nose turning up.

Her eyes skimmed over the article, which was quick to insinuate that Ronald was the father of Natasha, made sure to point out that she looked the right age to be the reason that Hermione had left in the first place, and made very pointed jabs at _the Hermione Granger_ being a single mother. The article itself only made her even more angry, and the paper went up in scarlet flames without so much as a blink from Hermione. She snarled, turning quickly into the kitchen, flicking her wand over her shoulder to fix the exploded couch and make herself a cup of coffee.

Her fingers were shaking by the time the mug was actually filled and she leaned back against the counter, staring out across her living room to the open windows that over looked the street below, completely oblivious to the world around her. Her one thought was on the _actual_ father of Natasha, and his reaction to the morning paper. She wondered if he would make the connection between himself and Natasha. He wasnt _that_ daft, she believed. He was actually a rather intelligent person, despite being an absolute prat. While he, indeed, gave Hermione one of the best blessings in her life, she sometimes wondered just what state of mind she was in when she decided to go home with him those few months after the war. Her sigh rippled the surface of her coffee as she went to take another sip, reaching up with one hand to rub across her brow in a vain attempt to ease the migraine that was coming on from the, although expected, horrible morning news.

Natasha was still in bed, completely unaware of the tough morning her mother was having. Having already gotten up, showered, dressed in a pair of faded skinny jeans and grey long sleeved shirt, she was already ready for the day, but she wanted to get her frustration about the paper out of the way before waking up her daughter. It wasnt a surprise, however, when her Floo opened up, and out walked the familiar duo that had always had her back. She wasnt surprised not to see Ron- he was probably still asleep, just like Tasha, and would meet up with him later that day at Weasley dinner, but Ginny and Harry were out of the floor and across the room in a few strides (and waddles), wrapping Hermione up in strong arms.

"Have you seen it, yet?" Ginny asked, pulling back with a worried look. Hermione raised a single brow, all she needed to communicate _exactly_ what had occured only a few minutes earlier. Harry let out a sigh and brushed a hand through his ever-unruly hair, leaning one hand on the counter beside her.

"What are you going to do?" Hermione shrugged.

"I knew it was going to happen. It was my decision to go to Diagon Alley so quickly after arriving, but I needed to run errands, and I had already picked up Tasha from the Burrow." She sighed, taking another sip of her coffee as Ginny walked around her counter to take a seat on one of the stools, a hand on her large stomach.

"What about-"

"Ill deal with it." She snapped, eyes widening slightly before she sighed and shot Ginny an apologetic look. Harry sighed, turning to lean back against the counter beside her and crossed his arms over his chest. He shot his wife a glance before turning his head to look at Hermione with a soft furrow of his brows.

"You know, his family's changed, 'Mione."

"And Im secretly a hippogriff." She scoffed with a roll of her eyes, downing the rest of her coffee and placing the mug in the sink behind her.

"He has," Ginny agreed, glancing at her husband, warily, "The boys go out with him on occasion for drinks."

"He's Ginny's healer, you know." Harry included. Hermione raised a brow in the red haired witch's direction, but turned her attention back to Harry.

"You," She drawled, "and Ron go out to drinks with Malfoy?" Harry shrugged.

"Along with Nott, Zabini and a few other aurors. Time changes people."

"Look at Narcissa Malfoy," Ginny motioned with a hand in Hermione's direction, "you two were having a perfectly civil conversation with each other at the gala. Remember in 6th year when you and the boys went into Madam Malkins and she was a total snit?" Hermione sighed and glanced towards the windows of her living area again.

"Narcissa is different," she argued, "Ive always gotten the impression that she's been wearing a mask for years."

"She grew up in the same type of household as Malfoy, maybe even worse." Harry pointed out. "It's not about the upbringing, or the appearances they made in the past, 'Mione. Give the guy a chance _now_."

The room went silent for a few moments, the couple letting their friend stew over the advice they had just given her. Harry reached behind Hermione, pouring coffee into a mug that was sitting on the drying rack, moving to her fridge for creamer. Ginny watched her friend intently, watching the way her hazel eyes opened up slightly to show the world the way the inside of her head was calculating, thinking, reacting to the information she had just been given. It was a year after the war, soon after their wedding, when Harry had went out with some of the aurors- Ron, Seamus, Zabini- and Blaise had invited Malfoy along.

Ginny hadnt known until later that night, when Harry had come home decently smashed, going on and on about how he _never_ would have believed that he would have had a good time drinking with the ferret. It had been awkward and tense in the beginning, he had explained, with Ron especially, but once drinks had begun flowing, jokes and jabs were exchanged in a civil manner, that's when years of hatred began to dissipate.

It had become a tradition for the Gryffindors and the Slytherins to go out at least three times a month, ever since.

 _Because we are mature adults now, damnit_. Ginny thought to herself with a satisfied smirk.

It was moments later that Hermione shifted, pulling herself out of the deep inner sanctum of her overactive mind and blinked. Her body was tense, she seemed to barely be breathing, her grip on the counter behind her was tight and white-knuckled. Harry and Ginny watched her patiently. It was only when she spoke that Ginny felt her heart inside her crack.

"I cant let him take her from me." Ginny's eyes snapped towards her husband, his already locked on her. She could see the pain mirroring her own in those emerald eyes. Harry placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder and turned her slightly to look at him.

"'Mione," he breathed, "Malfoy wouldnt do that. Not only that, but you _know_ that Ron and I would never let him. _George_ would never let him. Ginny. Bill. Charlie. Percy. **_Molly_** would. Not. Let. Him." Harry took her hands in his, holding them tightly. "I understand your fear. Ginny and I love Teddy as if he were our own, and we had to fight the Ministry to keep him. Believe me when I say, that I have come to know and understand Malfoy on a different level since you've left. I can even say we are friends. Ginny and I have gone to dinners at Malfoy Manor and had a decent night with his parents as well. Things have changed."

"He wont take Tasha from you." Ginny whispered.

"Where am I going?" All eyes snapped towards the hallway, where the small girl in question stood rubbing at her periwinkle eyes, her mess of curls the color of newly fallen snow and tangled on her head, barely skimming her shoulders. Her skin was almost as pale as her hair, making her freckles stand out drastically. Hermione couldnt help but notice that her skin was slightly pointed, as well as her nose, her brows sharper, her cheek bones higher. _She's feeling a little bit of her dad today_.

"No where, baby." She said, holding an arm out, a silent motion for her daughter to come give her a hug. She did, waddling tiredly across the living room to the kitchen to latch herself to her mothers leg. It was only a few seconds later, however, that her periwinkle eyes snapped open, reeling back to take in the sight of her _favorite_ uncle standing in the kitchen.

"UNCLE HARRY!" Tasha jumped across the space separating Harry and Hermione and was quickly swept up into his arms, wrapping her tiny arms tightly around his neck, her legs around his chest as Harry held her and laughed.

"Hi little love," he planted a kiss on her head, brushing back her (now long and messy, hair the color of merigolds) curls as her little legs kicked around him excitedly. "Merlin, you've gotten big." Tasha pulled back, opening her mouth and pointing to her teeth excitedly.

"I lost another tooth, see?" Harry laughed, nodding his head.

"I do see! Why dont you go show your Aunt Ginny?" He placed her back down on the ground in just enough time for her to race around the counter, bouncing in front of Ginny and pointing to her teeth.

"See Aunt Ginny? See?" Ginny laughed, leaning down as far as she could with her big belly and looking closely.

"I do, Tasha! Look at you!" The little girl smiled proudly, looking up at her mother happily before turning back to her Aunt and tilting her head, looking at her stomach. Natasha Granger was very much her mothers daughter, and while Hermione had been named the ' _Brightest Witch of Her Age_ ', Tasha had definitely gotten some of those genes.

"Do you have a baby there?" She asked, pointing towards Ginny's rotund belly. Ginny blinked, shocked not by the question, but the five year old's understanding of children before she smiled and nodded, placing a hand there.

"I do, do you want to feel?" Harry and Hermione laughed at the shocked look Tasha gave Ginny as the older witch took her little hand and placed it on the left side of her belly. The little girl blinked and frowned, looking up at her hand and gently pulled it away. Ginny laughed. "He kicked." She explained.

"Oh..." Tasha still seemed confused. Hermione smiled and turned away, walking to the pantry and pulling out a box of cereal.

"Are you hungry, Tasha?" She asked, pulling out a bowl and milk to make her breakfast. The little girl instantly perked up and nodded, hauling herself onto a barstool beside her aunt and waiting patiently until her mother placed the cereal before her. Hermione then took her place by the sink beside Harry once more, Tasha talking through a mouthful of cereal to Ginny about her new room, and the book her mum had just bought her and coloring. Blimey that girl loved coloring.

Harry leaned towards her again, a small smile on his face as he watched Ginny listen to the little girl, arms crossed over his chest, still holding his mug of coffee. "You're a brilliant mum, 'Mione." He told her. "We've missed you." Hermione couldnt help but smile as she watched her daughter. She couldnt believe that five years had passed already since she had given birth to her. Each day had flown by. She could remember spending hours every night feeding her, could remember her first word- ' _food_ ', blood hell- her first steps... and now she was five. Her birthday had passed just a few weeks prior, at the end of April. She had been born down in Australia. Her parents had been there, of course. Harry and Ginny and Ron, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had all flooed down to see her newborn baby Natasha. And then a few months later, she had flooed back to Britain for Harry and Ginny's wedding. That was the last time they had seen anyone until now, everyone so busy with their own lives.

"We missed you too." She whispered.

Harry and Ginny didnt stay much longer, they asked her a few more times if she would be okay regarding the _Daily Prophet_ , to which she insisted she would be fine and handle anything that came her way. They disappeared in emerald flames, reminding her about dinner that afternoon at the Burrow before they left. Hermione and Tasha spent the rest of the day around the flat. Hermione would be starting her first day at the Ministry the following morning and made sure she had everything she would need for the new position ready and waiting in her bedroom. She then sorted everything Tasha would need for the daycare that she had found via Luna. It was run by the Patil twins, much to Hermione's surprise. She had always thought that at least one of them would go into healing of some sort, but instead they had gravitated towards children.

The rest of the morning was spent cleaning the flat. She placed Tasha before the television, watching some of her favorite cartoons (introduced by Hermione's parents when she would stay over their house), as Hermione scrubbed the kitchen and continued unboxing things she had been too lazy to do before. Her books were already put away on the six, large bookcases that lined the back wall of the living area, overflowing with books. Most were neat and organized, but some were stacked on the top of the bookcases, others resting on top of the neatly organized books and a few piles had accumulated on the floor. She had thought six would be enough... apparently she had been wrong.

The flat itself was rather spacious. She had gotten herself a three bedroom flat, on the off chance that anyone would need to stay the night. The living area was large, roomy enough for an L-shaped couch, resting up against one wall and facing the television in the corner, the fireplace mantle covered with pictures of Hermione, Tasha, her parents and their adventures in Australia. The bookcases were on the opposite wall of the fireplace, two large windows accented with dark blue curtains on the adjacent wall. The kitchen was open to the living room, a small step higher, and decorated in tones of beige and blue, similar to the living area. Already, Hermione had decorated the fridge with Tasha's drawings, the dishes put away and the fridge full of food.

When it drew closer to the afternoon, Hermione sent her daughter off to shower (something she had insisted upon doing herself now that she was five years old, and Hermione reminded her every single time to keep the door unlocked in case she would need to come in), picking out clothes for her and leaving them on her bed. She then ran to her own bedroom, having already showered that morning and changed into a nicer pair of jeans. Her chestnut curls tumbled down her back, her eyes lined nicely with eyeliner and mascara, drawing more attention to her large, hazel eyes. Hermione really had changed physically while being away. Her hips were wider, thanks to giving birth, her waist was still slim and her breasts slightly larger, but there was something about her face as well. Her face was more heart-shaped, her cheeks slightly higher and her eyes almost seemed larger. She had finally learned to tame her hair and she looked more... refined.

She smiled to herself slightly in the mirror, shoving her wand into her curls and walked out of the room. Tasha's door was open, she was struggling with her own pair of jeans and Hermione giggled to herself, walking inside to help her. "I can do it!" The little girl cried, wiggling herself into the pants, stepping on the bottoms.

"Okay!" Hermione cried in the same tone, raising her hands defensively, "You can do it! Find me in the kitchen when you're ready so we can go visit grandma Molly!" And she hurried from the room.

Tasha emerged five minutes later, pants still around her knees looking absolutely defeated, her eyes glimmering with frustrated tears. Hermione chuckled, walking over and helping her daughter into her jeans, grabbing the bag she had prepared for her and helping her floo over to the Burrow.

Chaos. Reigned.

Fred Weasley was screaming at the top of his lungs while Angelina tried to feed him at the kitchen table. Molly and Lucy were racing around their annoyed father, their chubby legs causing them to trip constantly and land on their stomachs before trying to shove themselves back up. Lucy still hadnt learned to form full sentences yet, but Hermione could hear baby babble coming from her direction. Teddy was racing down the stairs on one of the brooms Harry had no doubt gotten him, Ginny screeching after him to ' _take it outside with Harry!_ '. Molly was at the stove. Arthur at the table with the paper in front of him, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Bill and Fleur hadnt arrived with their pack of savages quite yet, George was no where to be found, along with Ron or Harry.

"Oh, Hermione, dear, there you are!" Mrs. Weasley raced over to give her and Tasha a hug, shoving them in the direction of Mr. Weasley who looked up quickly when Molly spoke.

"Hermione! Natasha!" He pushed himself upright and opened his arms for hugs. "Oh, its so good to see you both!" He kissed Hermione on the head in the fatherly way he had always done before leaning down to snatch Tasha up in a big hug. Tasha giggled as he ruffled her hair (which had since changed to shoulder length, straight, forest green locks, her eyes a pale blue).

"Tasha, say hi to your grandpa Arthur." Hermione murmured with a smile.

"Hi grandpa!" The others around the house quickly converged upon them, all wanting to introduce themselves to Tasha. The back door to the burrow opened, Harry, Ron and George coming inside covered in sweat and dirt from chasing after gnomes in the garden. Hermione smiled at them, leaning down to Tasha and pointing to her three other uncles, to which she excitedly squealed and raced across the room, attaching herself to her Uncle George. The three men laughed, passing her around to each of them, Tasha yelling excitedly when she realized the other red-head was her Uncle Ron.

Introductions soon ended, but there was still one other person, who she had last seen racing down the stairs on a broom, to introduce to Tasha. She turned to Ginny, who had taken a seat beside her father at the table and leaned towards her. "Where's Teddy?" She whispered. Ginny frowned, looking around, hauling herself up and walking out the door, letting it slam behind her. Tasha was at the table on the other end, talking animatedly with George, Ron and Harry, Percy standing nearby. From the snippets of conversation she was picking up, the boys were all explaining Quidditch to the little girl. Hermione rolled her eyes, but she indeed wondered if the little girl would take after her father and be more athletically inclined.

The door opened back up and Hermione turned to find Ginny shoving a beaming Teddy into the house, his turquoise hair an absolute mess on his head. He looked around, but it didnt take long for him to spot the forest green locks of Tasha sitting at the table, her back turned to her. "Nat!" He cried, racing across the room, Tasha turning in her seat with a frown, wondering who in the world would call her that, only for her to subsequently be tackled off the chair. The adults cried out, Hermione and Ginny lunging forward, but the two children were laughing. The adults watched in fascination and amusement as Teddy's hair turned dark, forest green, and Tasha's hair a bright turquoise before switching back. They, looking at each other, seemed to settle on something in between, a dark tealish green, their eyes a bright blue.

"Teddy!" Tasha was hugging him tightly, laughing wildly. "Mumma its Teddy!" Hermione laughed, leaning back against the table.

"Surprise, love." The two children got off the floor, holding hands tightly, and Tasha yanked him over towards her mum, beaming brightly.

"Mumma did you know he would be here?" Hermione laughed and knelt down, nodding her head.

"You knew he lived with Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry, dear."

"I know, but he wasnt at our house this morning with them!" Hermione smiled, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her daughters head.

"I wanted to keep it a surprise. Now go outside a play." She said, shooing them out the door. The children didnt object, racing out back and letting the door slam behind them.

* * *

Bill and Fleur had arrived soon after Tasha and Teddy raced outside, and from the window Hermione could see them taking turns on Teddy's broom. Tasha had fallen off, face planted hard into the dirt more than once, Ron standing over her shoulder wincing slightly with a chuckle, but the two smiled as they watched the little girl get right back up, face dusted with dirt and try again. Yes, she was definitely her father's daughter. The adults had settled down (mostly), every now and then someone getting up the wrangle in the kids that were bouncing around the living room and shoving them out the door to play in the yard. Hermione lounged at the table, sitting between Harry and Bill, sipping on a beer that Molly had offered her, laughing at the jokes being thrown around the table.

She had missed this. She had missed this so bloody much. She loved living near her parents in Australia, and she had a fair few friends still down under, but this was different. This was another family to her. This was her big, crazy, loving family she had grown up with, had spent so many holidays and summers with. This was her home.

No one had mentioned the _Daily Prophet_ yet, much to Hermione's happiness. She wanted a bit of time to take her mind off of the massive explosion that would be her life soon enough and spend some time with the people that she loved and that didnt care why she had left in the first place, or who Tasha's father was. Well, maybe they did care, but they had come to terms with it a long time ago, and now only had support for her. She smiled, laughing at the story Bill was telling about his recent visit to Romania to see Charlie. Everything was great in this one, perfect moment.

Hermione and Tasha stayed almost the entire night at the Burrow with the rest of the Weasley clan. Dinner was as fantastic as Hermione remembered it. Tasha and Teddy were practically inseperable and Hermione spent the entire night catching up with the family she had missed desperately for the last six years. It was going on eleven when Hermione noticed Tasha and Teddy passed out on the couch together, Teddy laying half off the couch and Tasha's legs kicked over his. She laughed, tossing her empty beer bottle and quietly said her goodbyes as she picked up her daughter. Harry and Ginny followed soon after with an unconscious Teddy. Ginny came up to her side just before she stepped into the fireplace.

"Let me know if you need anything," She whispered, kissing Hermione on the cheek, "you're probably gonna have a rough couple of weeks now that the news it out about her." Hermione nodded her head, giving her adoptive sister a grateful smile and disappeared with Tasha in her arms into a mass of green flames.

Hermione walked through her flat to the far back bedroom, nudging open the door with her hip. The room was average sized for a childs bedroom, the walls were painted a soft grey with teal highlights, pictures of Tasha and Hermione across the walls as well as Tasha's drawings and a few other decorations gifted to them by her parents, the Weasleys and the Potters. She tucked Tasha into her bed, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead before turning out the light and shutting the door behind her. Tasha was a relatively hard sleeper, so Hermione walked back towards the living room and turned on the television to relax before heading to bed.

She was going to have a long day tomorrow. No doubt a million people were going to be coming to her, asking her questions simply so they could say they talked to her and she was entirely prepared for the most obvious of questions: who was Tasha's father? She sighed, rolling her eyes, fixing herself a cup of tea to help her relax and settled down onto her couch. She was entirely grateful that Malfoy worked at St. Mungos and not the Ministry... that none of the Malfoy's worked at the Ministry. She had no idea of Narcissa and Lucius knew of the night that they had spent together, but either way, she just didnt want to see them at the moment.

It didnt take long before Hermione felt the effects of the alcohol she had consumed that evening and shut down her apartment for the night, wandering into her own bedroom and shutting the door behind herself. She stripped out of her pants and shirt, tossing her bra in the general direction of the hamper before pulling out an oversized shirt she had stolen from a long-forgotten ex and climbed into bed. Tomorrow was the beginning of another life for her. Another chapter.

It would be interesting.


End file.
